


Eager

by missivesfromghosts



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Trans Character, pure unadulterated smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12185064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missivesfromghosts/pseuds/missivesfromghosts
Summary: Hawke and Fenris have a lazy morning in bed. And sex. A whole bunch of sex.





	Eager

Hawke wakes up to the tickling sensation of Fenris’ lips, soft as can be on his chest. Fenris glances at him through his fringe of hair when Hawke makes a sleepy _mmmgmf_ sound.

“Good morning,” he says and kisses the other side of his chest, pressing down Hawke’s thicket of chest hair with his lips.

 _Mmm,_ Hawke replies. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he smiles sleepily as Fenris kisses his collarbone.

“Did you sleep well?”

 _Mmhmm,_ Hawke agrees. Hawke is rarely prepared to be verbal just after waking.

Fenris runs his hands up Hawke’s arm slowly, kisses his shoulder and then the crease of his arm where it meets his chest. Hawke sighs softly, eyes still closed, as Fenris trails kisses down his chest. He drags his tongue over one of Hawke’s small, flat nipples until it hardens and then drifts lower, following the trail of hair down Hawke’s abdomen with his mouth. Hawke’s thighs part in anticipation and Fenris laughs.

“Eager, Hawke?”

“Mmm… you know how to wake a guy up,” Hawke replies, eyes still closed.

“At the very least I know how to wake you up.”

“You _are_  very good at it.”

Fenris scoots lower and kisses the top of Hawke’s muscled thigh. Then closer to his hip. He presses his hand between Hawke’s legs and slides his fingers between Hawke’s folds, parting him.

Oh. Hawke is wet. So wet.

It is easy for Fenris to slide his fingers through the slick gathering at Hawke’s opening and smear it over his cock, rubbing his thumb against the hardening flesh.

“Ohhh, yes. Yes.” Hawke murmurs, spreading his legs wider. Fenris smiles to himself. Hawke is always so… expressive. He circles Hawke’s cock with his fingers, brushing over it only occasionally until Hawke’s hips are rolling needily.

“Fenris, _please._ ”

On another occasion, Fenris will make Hawke beg, but he doesn’t feel like teasing just now. As he settles between Hawke’s legs he looks up at the expanse of Hawke’s body and catches Hawke’s gaze, eyes dark and hooded. As, so Hawke is finally properly awake. He lingers there for a moment, their eyes holding each other. Then Fenris ducks his head and parts Hawke’s folds again. Not wasting any time, he closes his lips around his cock. It’s just big enough to suck, which he does, and Hawke’s whole body _jerks._ Fenris releases him and then does it again and Hawke cries out, body straining beneath him. Fenris knows its too much. He also knows Hawke likes to be pushed sometimes. 

Fenris relents and Hawke goes lax with a small whimper. 

Fenris teases him with light suction for a moment longer, feeling the tremors run through Hawke's body, before he settles into stroking his cock with long swipes of his tongue, slowly at first, then more quickly as he finds the rhythm Hawke likes that morning. He can feel Hawke getting wetter. The heady scent of him is everywhere. He tastes salty and sour and faintly of metal and his slick is smearing all over Fenris’ chin. Fenris’ cock aches where it is pressed against the mattress.

It doesn’t take long at all for Hawke’s body start to wind tight. Fenris can feel it in the way his thighs and stomach tense over and over. He pushes him onward until Hawke gasps, batting him away.

“Stop, stop, I’ll come.”

Fenris pulls away, wiping his mouth, and props himself up on his elbows to look at Hawke.

“That’s the point.”

Hawke shakes his head and beckons Fenris.

“Not yet. Come here.”

Fenris kisses the inside of Hawke’s thigh, now damp with sweat, before scooting up. He draws himself up and settles over Hawke.

 

Hawke draws his lover into a kiss. He can taste himself on Fenris’ lips. Hawke’s slick smears over both their faces. They kiss, bodies grinding against each until Fenris draws back, making a face.

“You okay?”

“Hair,” Fenris says, plucking at his tongue.

Hawke laughs, deep and hearty. “Sorry.”

“Occupational risk,” Fenris replies, fiddling and then finally plucking the offending hair from his mouth.

“Is eating me out your new profession?”

“Not so new.” Fenris’ lips curve into a smile and Hawke’s breath catches for a second at the way it lights up his whole face.

“Fuck, I love you.” Hawke pulls Fenris into another a deep kiss. “Not just because of that,” Hawke adds a second later, between breaths.

“Of course,” Fenris replies, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

As they rock against each other, Hawke tilts his hips, tries to grind his cock against Fenris. Fenris suddenly know just what he wants.

He nudges Hawke onto his side and presses against his back. He hooks his arm under Hawke's knee and pulls his leg up so he can settle his cock against his hot, wet cunt. He rocks his hips and his cock slides against Hawke's. The both groan.

Fenris presses his face into Hawke's shoulder as he thrusts between Hawke's thighs, cock gliding through his wet folds and rubbing against Hawke’s cock with every thrust. Hawke moans. In this position, caught and held against Fenris, there is little he can do but take it.

Fenris could get lost in this, he thinks. He could do this all day: tease them both with this aching not-quite-enough pleasure of being nestled against Hawke’s body and gliding through his slick, rubbing against him, feeling the friction of Hawke's lips around his cock, how his hole twitches with anticipation, how his hips press down so his cock meets Fenris' that much harder. 

Hawke has other plans though. Each stroke of Fenris’ cock against his own has him gasping. The pressure builds and builds behind his cock until he thinks he might burst. He strains against Fenris. _More._

“Fenris, I’m so close. For the love of the Maker—” Hawke chokes. They’ve done this often enough, on mornings like this one when they are too lazy for anything more, for Fenris to know just what Hawke needs. He changes his angle, his strokes now short and fast, pressing hard against Hawke’s cock. Hawke’s hands grip Fenris’ shoulders tight and he cries out, bucking back against Fenris futility, still caught firmly in his grasp. He seems to hang there, suspended, for long seconds, and then his whole body jerks. Fenris strokes him as he comes and Hawke all but sobs into the arm he's thrown over his face. “Oh Maker. Maker, Maker, Maker.”

Hawke finally goes limp and Fenris comes to a rest, still settled comfortably, but hard, against his cunt. He kisses Hawke’s neck, now sweaty with exertion.

Hawke feels his cunt throb and twitch against the hot brand of Fenris’ cock.

“Hawke,” Fenris begins, voice rough with want. “Let me come inside you.”

Hawke’s cunt throbs again.

“Fuck. Yes. Fill me.”

And Fenris does, rolling Hawke back over onto his back. Hawke grabs his face and kisses everywhere he can reach. He wraps his arms around Fenris and buries his face against Fenris’ shoulder as he starts to thrust. Fenris fucks him in long, slow strokes, feeling the pleasure coil and build inside him. Hawke is moaning beneath him, his body jerking with every thrust that hits against his core.

Hawke’s cunt grasps him tight.

_Yes._

Slow. Deep. Over and over.

_Yes._

He can feel Hawke’s body opening, taking him deeper.

_Yes._

Fenris feels his tight grip on his end fray. As the pressure threatens to overwhelm him he grasps Hawke’s hips and thrusts into him fast and shallow, chasing his end. He makes a soft gasp as Hawke clenches around him and Fenris tips over the edge. His thrusts stutter as he spurts inside Hawke, clutching him tight again.

Finally, he lies weakly against Hawke’s chest, softening cock still inside the champion. He thinks it is possible he will never move again.

“I think. I need a nap…” Hawke murmurs, nuzzling into Fenris’ hair, eyes closing again. Fenris feels another smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Hawke has been like this for as long as they have shared a bed: asleep as soon as post-coital bliss will allow. He lifts himself enough to slip out of him and lies against Hawke’s side. He closes his eyes. _Just a few minutes._

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The language in this fic used to describe Hawke's genitals are the words I think Hawke would use. I know other trans people use other words and that's fine too.
> 
> Ask me about my trans!Hawke canons. I have so many things to say. 
> 
> Comments very much loved and appreciated. 
> 
> Also, apologies for the fairly inconsistent PoV. It's smut and I wrote it quicky, so I wasn't too fussed.


End file.
